Some Kind of a Summer // David Cassidy

I received an interesting text message from Becci, while on the way to visit her. It contained the following picture;

And I thought '....dear god'

At the time Jonny and I were en route to Becci's to enjoy a relaxed evening of socialising nothingness. Jonny suggested I review the sandwich, which contains clotted cream, strawberry jam and strawberries.
Over the course of our journey we sort of came to the conclusion that it was similar to a cream tea, but wronger. I thought I would never get the chance to review it, as it's not something I would condone by purchasing.

But when we arrived at Becci & Chay's we were confronted by the sight of the end of this sandwich - saved for us to try. Chay justifies it in the video.

I went first.

I have said before that I don't really like eating cream. Clotted cream is a rare exception to this, I will enjoy it on a scone, as long as I don't get any 'top'. But I  especially don't like cream from Tesco.

Then Jonny had a go.

It was horrible. And I'm going to blame it's existance on Wimbledon Fortnight. Bastards.
First you make commuting through Wimbledon complete hell for two weeks ('Oh! Oh! The tennis! Did you see Pat Cash?! Oh what a dish. What's that? You like my Wimbledon Umbrella? Yes, yes, I bought it especially to hit commuters in the face with when we get back to the station, or just to stop them getting where they're trying to go, awfully good sport in a downpour.') then you create a fucking awful sandwich.

Jello Biafra // Wesley Willis

I hate that word - Jello. It makes me all cringey.

Jonny and I hosted a barbecue at the weekend to make the most of the weather, and to cheer me up a bit. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, so we went all out and spent loads of money.

We had a fair few people over and cooked the usual burgers and sausages and Jonny did this amazing marinade for the lamb we bought. It was incredible.

I hit the pimms at about 1pm. I was rather merry by the end of the evening. We put the usual fruit in pimms (the only acceptable use of fruit really) plus blueberries. Jonny liked them as the skin meant they didn't soak up all the booze. I think this makes him weird and for every blueberry I had I gave myself the task of skewering it so that it ended up with some flavour. Weird things, blueberries. They aren't nice, yet it's quite possible to eat a whole punnet. I like them in cake. That's it.


Anyway, Jonny wanted jelly for pudding. Jelly is another thing I don't really get. I'll eat jelly cubes, but once you've watered them down they just taste like cold, set water. We had three flavours - blackcurrent, raspberry and orange. Jonny wanted them layered up prettily. Which meant it took the whole morning, for what was not much of an effect in the end. By the time you water them down they all look the same sort of washed out pink colour.

Jonny liked it. Our lovely friend Hayley had also brought a chocolate torte, thankfully as after all the meat I was really in the mood for a pudding that wasn't jelly. The torte was lovely, not too rich. Someone.. I have a suspicion that it was Jonny put a piece of torte on top of his bowl of jelly.


This is disgusting and wrong.

The weather seems to have gone away again now, and it looks like it's taken my need for sugar. I'll try a milkshake at lunchtime to try and fix this.